A/N: To those I couldn't thank directly, thank you for the nice reviews! Reviews and constructive critiques are very welcome. Feedback always makes my day. The log entry at the beginning of this section comes from the episode; the rest of the scene is mine. Enjoy the ending.

Captain's log, supplemental. Commander La Forge and Mr. Data have recovered from their exposure to the anaphasic energy, but I am afraid Dr. Crusher's recovery will be of a more personal nature.

Jean-Luc Picard pressed the door chime and waited for a reply. He wasn't certain it was a good idea to visit her without talking first, but he hadn't really seen her since their return several days ago and he was growing restless. Deanna, who'd gently but firmly kept him at a distance, had told him Beverly was still sorting through everything and needed time. She was clearly avoiding him in the process. He wanted to respect her privacy, but he also wanted to be reassured that she was going to be back to her usual self soon—that they, however nebulous a concept that might sometimes be, would be back to their usual selves soon. He'd waited until after it was clear she would not be coming for breakfast again despite his invitation, then decided he couldn't wait any longer. He sent a brief message to the bridge and headed in her direction. She was supposed to be off-duty today, so she should still be in her quarters...

A too-long moment passed and he was about to press the chime again when he heard her quiet answer. "Come in."

He came in to find her curled up on the loveseat, knees drawn up to her chest, reading something on a padd in her hand. She was dressed in a casual ivory top and tan slacks. Her long hair was pulled back into a loose knot at the base of her neck, and her eyes—which, he was relieved to confirm again, were back to their usual strikingly blue color—held a look of resignation as she looked up at him. "Hello, Jean-Luc."

He stopped just inside the door as it hissed shut, waiting for a further invitation. None was forthcoming. "Beverly. It's good to see you," he said, rather more awkwardly than he'd like. He tugged down on his uniform tunic. "I—thought I'd come see how you were doing."

She offered a wan smile, closing out of her padd and placing it on the coffee table next to her cup of tea. "I'm fine. Thank you for asking."

"You're fine," he repeated, trying to keep the skepticism out of his voice. "Then—"

"—why am I avoiding you?" she finished.

He gave a rueful look. "I wasn't going to ask so directly, but...yes."

She ran a hand through her tousled hair, shaking out the knot, and sighed, looking away from him. "What do you want me to say? That I'm embarrassed? Ashamed? Maybe a little afraid? All of the above, really."

Picard winced and took a step toward her chair. "I don't want you to say any of that, Beverly. You shouldn't feel bad about anything that happened."

"Jean-Luc, I tried to resign my commission over some kind of love affair with an anaphasic energy being. Which tried to kill Geordi and Data. And you." Her tone was bitter. "You can see why I might be a little uncomfortable seeing you for awhile."

Something in him ached at hearing the recrimination in her voice. "You didn't ask for any of that to happen. He was controlling you through a biochemical process that meant you were not fully in control of your own actions."

"I'm the doctor, remember? I do understand the clinical explanation," she reminded him, still staring away from him. "My head felt clearer as soon as he...it...was destroyed, except I felt it like a horrible physical loss. It was every bit like being under the influence of a powerful drug."

He nodded, feeling the same anger rising in him that had surfaced when he'd read her report. For the creature to have intentionally made Beverly dependent on it, overriding her free will, infuriated him. Whether or not Felisa had appeared to be happy in spite of its presence, Beverly would never have chosen such a "relationship" without undue influence. If Picard hadn't gone after her, then the Beverly Crusher that he, that Wesley, that all her friends and colleagues knew, loved, and respected—that Beverly Crusher would have been irrevocably changed against her conscious will, would have disappeared from all of their lives. The prospect left him cold.

But it wasn't her fault. Despite the fact that she still had not invited him, Picard crossed the room and sat on the couch across from her, leaning forward, wanting to reassure her. "I am sorry that you experienced that, Beverly. I didn't understand at the time what was going on." He looked at her earnestly. "Even though you were affected, you were strong enough to break free of that influence and you saved all three of us. Nobody faults you at all."

Various emotions played across her face. "I do, Jean-Luc. I can't believe that I let it affect me so strongly. I should have been more in control."

Picard shook his head. "But Beverly, you know that is the very nature of addiction," he pointed out reasonably. "You didn't have any real choice in how strongly it would affect you." He searched her face for acknowledgment of the truth he was speaking, but he could see she still wasn't convinced.

He tried again. "Beverly." At his more firm tone of voice, she finally looked up at him, and in an instant, just as he always had been, he felt himself being drawn in by her eyes. He swallowed once to keep his focus. "I know that you would never have chosen any of this if it weren't for the anaphasic energy influence. Please, believe me when I say that you are not at fault, and you have no reason at all to feel uncomfortable around me." He pressed his lips together and then spoke again. "That being almost had a lasting impact upon our friendship. I would be...distressed if it continued to do so now."

Her expression softened. "I would, too," she admitted. She took a deep breath. "Thank you, Jean-Luc. And I should also thank you for coming to find me on Caldos, by the way."

Beverly, I could never have left you, he thought, but didn't say. Much as he wanted to touch her—or, truth be told, to pull her into his arms—he was acutely aware of the need to respect the careful boundaries they had always set with each other. To his lasting regret, he had overstepped in that regard two months earlier; he had no desire now to upset this fragile understanding they seemed to have found. Instead, drawing on his long-practiced self-control, he settled for reaching out one hand, grateful when she extended her own. "You're very welcome. But of course," and he attempted to disclaim the seriousness of that decision, "I had to, after all. You were going to leave me in quite a bind with no advance notice to find a new CMO."

She returned his affectionate smile. "I don't know. You could always have promoted Selar or Martin."

"They're not you," he said bluntly. It was probably a bit more honesty than advisable, he remonstrated himself, but at least she didn't pull away.

Beverly squeezed his hand and they sat in silence for a moment before she spoke again.

"I am sorry I hurt you, Jean-Luc." Again, was the unspoken word they both heard.

He shook his head. "I would only be hurt if I thought you were really going to leave the Enterprise without saying goodbye. So," and he cleared his throat, "if you ever do meet a dashing young man who sweeps you off your feet, you'd damned well better introduce him to me first."

His tone was light, but he couldn't quite sell the humor with his eyes. He really didn't know what he'd do if she ever fell in love with someone else and left him behind. Be magnanimous, of course; bury his own feelings away and find a way to be sincerely happy for her. He'd done it before, after all…but that was before Kesprytt. Before she really understood what he felt for her, before he'd had the hope, however fleeting, that his long-sublimated feelings might possibly be reciprocated. From the time they'd returned from that mission, they both understood they would no longer have the option of pretending, when contemplating relationships with others, that there was no deep attraction underlying their own long friendship. Though from the time they'd returned, he'd doubted he ever could contemplate a relationship with anyone else...

Fortunately, she took his words in the spirit they were intended, and replied lightly, "I promise, Jean-Luc." Then she looked at him steadily, and her next words were quiet, deliberate. "But somehow I don't see that ever happening."

Picard studied her blue eyes intently, forgetting to breathe for a moment. It seemed hard to mistake her meaning, but... "No?" he managed finally.

"No," she affirmed. She seemed about to say more, but hesitated and then gave a wistful look instead.

"Well, then," he said quietly. He could certainly accept that for now.

Beverly pulled her hand back and shifted position in her chair to stretch out her legs. "You probably need to get to the bridge."

He couldn't be quite sure, but she sounded as though she didn't want that to be the case. Taking a chance, he replied, "I let Commander Riker know I might be delayed this morning."

"Oh." He felt his heart warm at the hopeful look in her eyes. "Then...would you like to stay for morning tea?"

He nodded. "Yes." Another shared, grateful smile, and he relaxed now that it seemed they would, after all, be able to find their way back together. "Yes, I'd like that very much."

End 4/4